


An Honest Mistake

by YellowBelly



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Jaskier/Geralt - Freeform, M/M, PWP, Porn with some plot, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, also they do talk feelings, and Geralt suddenly realizes that yes he does care about him, doesn't happen but, in which Jaskier is a needy and dramatic little shit, inasmuch as these two actually can, listen there's only one bed, some seedy people are threatening, what were they supposed to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowBelly/pseuds/YellowBelly
Summary: Geralt tunes out Jaskier at precisely the wrong moment, because now apparently they're fighting? Luckily he has some ideas about how to make it up to him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 164





	An Honest Mistake

“I can’t believe I have to share a room with you,  _ again. _ ” Jaskier has that stiff irritation act on again, and Geralt rolls his eyes at him, otherwise ignoring the man’s complaints as he changes his shirt into something a little less travel-worn from his pack. “I mean, here I’m providing free entertainment for the entire inn, and bringing in people, and what’s my thanks? I get put in a double room, with the world’s  _ least _ hygienic man. Who, I might add,  _ snores _ , and--”

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice isn’t particularly sharp, but it’s enough to cut him off. “I’m paying for the room.”

“Right, and that’s  _ exactly _ my point, I should be getting a room for free, not being forced to stay with you.”

Geralt rolls his eyes yet again. Only Jaskier could make freeloading off of someone else’s room sound like an imposition on  _ him _ .

“Do you know the innkeeper didn’t even ask?”

“I can’t imagine.” Geralt deadpans, and stands up from his pack. “Go downstairs and ask him, if you want to make a  _ thing _ about it. But you don’t actually work for free.”

Jaskier sputters for a moment. “I’ll have you know I  _ do _ \--”

Geralt pokes his pocket, which jangles from all the coins he’d collected that night. “What do you call that, then?”

Jaskier attempts to retain dignity. Fails, if he ever had any to begin with. “Donations.” He says archly.

Geralt snorts and turns away. “Right. Well maybe you could find accommodations with someone else tonight anyway. Don’t you have someone’s wife to be sleeping with or something?”

Jaskier sniffs. “I’ll have you know she told me she was a  _ widow _ \--”

Geralt tunes him out at that point, sinking into a chair. It’s sort of amusing that Jaskier thought he’d been referring to someone specific, even moreso that he’d had a ready-made excuse. But Geralt mostly finds himself annoyed by Jaskier’s various dalliances these days. If the man wants to stick to Geralt as a sort of insurance policy, fine, but would it be so difficult to make fewer people murderously angry along the way? Geralt has enough on his plate without trying to keep the bard out of trouble.

“And now you’re not even  _ listening _ to me--”

“No, I’m not.” Geralt muses. He’s a little surprised to feel hands on the front of his shirt, tugging him upright. Jaskier doesn’t actually have the strength to pull him out of the chair, and Geralt hadn’t really noticed him approaching because, well, he’s not exactly a threat. But he stands anyway, looming over the man. “What?”

“I  _ said _ , if you’re so  _ bothered _ by it, maybe you should just get  _ over _ yourself, and kiss me  _ yourself _ !” 

Geralt blinks at him. When had the conversation taken  _ this _ particular turn? “...What?” He says intelligently.

Jaskier throws up his hands. “That’s it!” He stalks to the far side of the room, grabbing his lute and the bag he’d brought. “I’m not going to sit here and just be ignored and belittled because you’re too much of a--a manbaby to sort through your own feelings.”

“Jaskier, wait.” Geralt catches his arm as the man tries to stalk past. It’s ridiculous, it’s a ridiculous argument, and frankly he doesn’t even know what Jaskier’s talking about. Probably, he should just let the man go, let him cool off and get his panties out of whatever twist they’d knotted themselves into. 

But also, he’d seen a group of fairly nasty-looking men in the corner down in the common room of the inn. They’d been giving Jaskier looks Geralt didn’t like all night long, and the few comments he’d overheard from them had been what had made him actually  _ offer _ to share his room with Jaskier tonight. No doubt the man would have ended up here regardless, but no harm in making sure. And with that in mind, Geralt doesn’t particularly want his bard to go wandering off tonight.

His bard.

Huh.

Jaskier is looking up at him with something halfway between irritation and hurt on his face. It remains ridiculous, because Geralt has definitely said much more hurtful things to his face before. And has in fact physically hit him before. The fact that Jaskier is getting offended about this complete... _ non _ -thing, is bizarre. But if it’s a kiss the bard wants, it’s not as though Geralt has a finite number to give out. He pulls the man close by one arm and kisses him, hard.

“Better?” He asks, pulling back with a scowl. But Jaskier just looks more upset.  _ Damn _ it.

“Just...fuck off, Geralt.” The man says after a beat. “If you don’t get it, just forget about it.” And he tries to pull away.

But...those men are still downstairs. Potentially waiting for him.

_ Any fucktoy of a Witcher’s gotta be able to handle pretty much anything up his arse, eh lads? Think his cock has spines? _

_ Nah I hear it’s all tentacles from the waist down. We can ask the prettyboy, if we take our cocks out of his mouth long enough. _

_ He does sing real pretty. I’d like to hear him sing pretty like that for me, if you catch my drift. _

“Jaskier, wait.” Geralt says again, and he says it quieter this time, and maybe that’s what gets Jaskier to stop and look at him. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know exactly what he’s sorry for, but clearly he’s hurt the man’s feelings. Properly, not in the way the man likes to express with feigned outrage. “I wasn’t listening. But I don’t want you to go.”

Jaskier’s shoulders sag, but there’s uncertainty on his face where there hadn’t been before.

“You don’t?”

Geralt shakes his head. He takes Jaskier’s shoulders in his hands, squaring the man to himself and searching his face. “Jaskier, do you...do you have...do you  _ want _ me to kiss you?”

“And we come to it at last, ladies and gentlemen, he’s spotted what’s been right in front of his face the whole time. Give him a hand, folks, he’s shattered the record for--”

“Jaskier.” Geralt gives him a little shake, and Jaskier sags even more, refusing to look up at him.

“Yes.” He finally says, simply. “But obviously you don’t feel the same way, so--” He moves as if to leave.

“I didn’t say that.” Geralt says quickly, and doesn’t let go of him.

Jaskier freezes in his grip, startled, then gives a little shake of his head. “You didn’t say you  _ do _ , either.”

Geralt rolls his eyes yet again, and sighs. “Jaskier. I would like to kiss you. I--I care about you.” It’s stilted, and Jaskier sets his mouth.

“Yeah, but are you just saying that--”

Geralt loses his patience with a growl, claiming Jaskier’s lips. He doesn’t let the man pull away, and doesn’t break the kiss off this time until the man softens under his mouth, finally beginning to kiss him back, although Jaskier’s motions are more hesitant than Geralt would expect from someone who seems to find people to sleep with in every town they pass through. When he finally does let the man pull back, Jaskier does so slowly. He’s breathing as though he’s been winded, and a dark flush has settled across his cheekbones.

“Um.” Jaskier says, his usual rapidfire speech seemingly having, for once, abandoned him.

“I care about you.” Geralt says again, more firmly this time. “Now, are you going to continue having a tantrum, or are we going to do something about it?”

Jaskier flushes a brighter red, but he lifts his chin. “Something like what?”

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want. We’re sharing a bed, but if you want to take your time…”

Jaskier’s face does a funny sort of twitch, and then the man is standing on his toes to kiss him deeply, and  _ this _ is the way that Geralt had expected him to kiss from the start. Geralt kisses him back, one of his hands sliding to the nape of Jaskier’s neck and gripping it to deepen the kiss. Unexpectedly, a soft, hungry sound escapes him as Jaskier shifts closer, pressing his body against Geralt’s, and Jaskier laughs quietly.

“How about this?” The man says between kisses. “We can take our time later.” He lets a hand trail down Geralt’s torso, palming him through the thin fabric of his pants. “For now, why don’t you just fuck me?” His voice is a little hoarse, and sends heat straight through Geralt, pooling low in his stomach. 

Before he can think better of it, he’s lifted Jaskier by the waist, and carries him over to the bed, pushing him down on it and climbing overtop of him, kissing him hungrily as he undresses the man. Jaskier helps enthusiastically, arching and moaning as Geralt bites his throat, roughly pushing his pants off and settling between Jaskier’s legs. 

“Fuck me, please--” Jaskier gasps again, as Geralt runs his hands over his body. “Fuck--a- _ ah _ !” 

Geralt grins as the man whimpers beneath him, already fingering him deeply. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He growls in the man’s ear, and twists his fingers into Jaskier’s hair. “Now shut up.”

To his credit, Jaskier does. Geralt isn’t as gentle with him as he’d been with Yennifer, but in his defense, it had been a long time since he’d had sex with anyone, and Jaskier...kind of begs for a rough fucking in the way he’s acted ever since Geralt had first met him. Now that they’re apparently on the same page, Geralt is only too happy to give it to him.

He rolls Jaskier over, getting the man on his hands and knees before taking his hips and claiming him. The man isn’t quiet, although he doesn’t technically speak, and Geralt suddenly finds himself wanting to know just how many different sounds he  _ can _ draw from the bard’s throat. He quickly sets about finding out, giving Jaskier plenty of cause for the high, desperate moans that stammer their way through lips that are usually so very clever.

...And isn’t  _ that _ a thought.

Geralt pulls out suddenly, manhandling Jaskier back onto his back, and the man stares up at him, gasping for breath with wide, hungry eyes, although he still doesn’t speak. His lips are slick from kissing, and Geralt smiles, reaching down and rubbing his thumb around the open hole of Jaskier’s mouth.

“If I’d known what it took to get you to shut up, I would have done this earlier.” Geralt says, smirking. Jaskier blinks, and gets that look that says he’s about to try a smart reply, so Geralt pushes his thumb into the man’s mouth, following it with a few fingers, probing the wet slick of Jaskier’s mouth and effectively gagging him. “I can think of much better uses for your tongue anyway.”

Understanding dawns on Jaskier’s face, and hesitantly, he lets his tongue slip through Geralt’s fingers, licking and suckling at the digits while Geralt watches him with satisfaction. His cock is still hard, but it can wait--this is the most enchanting performance he’s ever seen Jaskier give.

Slowly, Jaskier grows bolder, closing his eyes and concentrating as he sucks Geralt's fingers, the pink wet of his tongue occasionally darting out, and his breath coming faster even though Geralt has yet to touch him. It’s mesmerizing, and only with reluctance does Geralt eventually pull his fingers away.

“Not a bad start.” He says gruffly, as Jaskier looks up at him. “But if you’re going to put on a performance like that, it’d better be the real deal.” 

He settles himself over Jaskier’s face, slipping a finger in his mouth again to open it, and then slides his cock past Jaskier’s lips, smiling to himself as the bard’s lips stretch perfectly around it.

“Good, Jaskier.” He says quietly. “I’ve always thought you’d look better with my cock in my mouth than you do singing about me anyway.”

Jaskier makes a little sound of protest, but before he can really get himself worked up, Geralt bobs his hips. Carefully, not enough to choke the man, just to remind him. He’s got a lot more interest in what his tongue can do to his cock than he does in what words it can make.

After a few more muffled sounds, and another reminder, Jaskier eventually subsides. His clever mouth goes to work on Geralt’s cock, and Geralt grips the headboard so hard he thinks it might crack in his hands. God, why  _ hadn’t _ he ever done this before? Jaskier’s tongue is wicked, and the muffled whimpers that eventually begin to escape the bard only serve to drive Geralt further--he comes with a long moan in the bard’s mouth, and he can tell by the look on the man’s face when he pulls out that he intends to spit out his cum.

With a smirk, Geralt shakes his head. 

“Swallow it, Jaskier.”

His smirk grows wider when the bard obeys.

He wasn’t just planning on using the bard though, and settles himself low, kissing his way down Jaskier’s chest, drawing a surprised gasp from the man.

“W-what are you doing?” Jaskier finally finds his words, but Geralt doesn’t mind.

“Returning the favor.” He says quietly. He spreads Jaskier’s legs, admiring the view for a moment, and probing possessively with his fingers until Jaskier lets out something like a sob, but eventually he bends his head, taking Jaskier in his own mouth and drawing his tongue slowly up the underside of his cock.

Jaskier’s breath explodes from him. “Ger-Geralt, you really don’t have to do that--”

“I want to.” Geralt pulls back just long enough to say before bearing down on him again. He feels hesitant hands in his hair, and butts his head upward toward them slightly, encouraging until he can feel Jaskier holding tight, like he needs an anchor as Geralt fucks him with his mouth.

It doesn’t take Jaskier long to come. Geralt swallows, then leans up, kissing Jaskier deeply. The man seems dazed, kissing him back clumsily, and Geralt grins. As ways to get Jaskier to shut up go, so far this one seems like a winner. He lays the man carefully down on the bed, curling protectively around him and pulling a blanket over both of them. The mess can wait until the morning; Jaskier’s asleep practically before Geralt gets him settled, and all Geralt can do is shake his head fondly at the man. 

Perhaps, with this bridge apparently crossed, they can  _ make _ another mess tomorrow, as well.


End file.
